Lost and Found
by Callieach
Summary: Jordan was kidnapped. Two years later, when she shows up, she can't remember anything. What happened? What will happen? Read to find out, and review while you're at it. Chapter 6 now up!
1. Preface

A/N: This doesn't make a lot of reference to the past, but I do know that it is after season 4. A long time after.

* * *

Preface

They'd been working on a case. A tough one. The case of a group that stalked women, sometimes killing them, or else kidnapping them or raping them. By the time the team had figured out their MO, it was too late. Too late to warn one of their own that she was next on their hit list.

That was two years ago. Her team had beaten themselves up over it time and again. The grief counselor had to go into counseling. And the case's detective wouldn't let it go cold and become unsolved.

They had lost their Jordan. After mourning her for two years, they were more than ready to have her back. They weren't going to screw her case up. They weren't going to loose hope. She was out there, and they were all determined to find her.

* * *

A/N: Short, I know, but it's just an introduction. The other chapters won't all be so dark and mysterious. Read, review and wait for updates! 


	2. The Street Corner

A/N: Oh my gosh, so many people reviewed to the first chapter! You guys rock and this is just for you!

* * *

The Street Corner

Woody was walking from his car to his office when it happened. He saw her. She was on the street corner opposite him. Her hair was down, and as beautiful as ever. She was holding a man's hand, and talking and smiling at him. Woody's shock was mixed with his usual jealousy of seeing her with another man. And also confusion. If she were in Boston, why hadn't she tried to get a hold of one of them? Why hadn't she come around sooner? Who was that man she was with? When the light said they could walk, they both walked to the same corner.

"Jordan!" he called out when she was nearby. She stopped and looked at him. Everybody did. It was most defiantly Jordan, but why didn't she acknowledge that she knew him? He hadn't changed that much in two years, had he? Realizing it was hopeless, he blushed and walked away. "Never mind." He muttered in disgust.

Woody walked the rest of the way to work with his head down. He was confused. After he went to his office to find he didn't have any real work to do, he was still confused, so he decided to go to the one place where they could make sense of anything. The morgue. He found Bug and Nigel ogling over a new piece of equipment.

"What brings you here, Detective Hoyt?" Nigel asked when he noticed Woody.

"I saw Jordan today." He answered simply.

"Are you sure? Where was she? How was she?" Bug questioned.

" Yes, I swear it was her. Just down the street on my way to work. She looked fine, but I don't know."

"What do you mean , _you don't know_?" asked Bug impatiently.

"I don't think she recognized me." Woody plunged into the story, finishing with a very disheartened, "I just don't get it."

Lily walked by at that very moment, and seeing all of them gathered around, looking solemn, she went in. "What's up?"

"Woodrow's been hallucinating." Nigel informed her.

"I have not! I swear to God I saw her!" Woody exclaimed.

"Saw who?" asked Lily, grabbing a chair for herself.

"Jordan." Bug, Nigel, and Woody said simultaneously.

"_What_?" Lily practically screamed. Woody re-told his story. "You're not kidding, are you, Woody?" she said when he was done, tears shining in her eyes. Woody shook his head. "What are we going to do, guys?"

"The best we can do. If we see her, try to talk to her." Bug said, putting a comforting arm around Lily's shoulders. Just then, Woody's cell phone rang.

"Hoyt." He took a notepad out of his pocket and wrote down an address. "Ok. Yup. I'll be there soon." He flipped his phone shut. "Who wants a case?"

Nigel and Bug exchanged looks, then played 'Rock, Paper, Scissors'. Bug threw a rock, crushing Nigel's scissors. "Fine, I'll go." Said Nigel dejectedly.

Nigel and Woody drove the ME's van to the street dispatch had given Woody. There were already about six police officers, an ambulance, and a body sprawled across the sidewalk, covered in crimson. An officer came over to talk with Woody and Nigel as Nigel started checking body temperature and taking pictures. "Michael Demers, 41, vacationing from L.A. with his girlfriend. Shot by a masked man, who ran away before we could get to him."

"What about the girlfriend?" Woody asked.

"Ambulance, getting tended to. She got shot in the arm."

"Name?" Nigel asked, finishing up the last of the crime scene photos.

"Say's she's Tina Tracy."

"_Says_?" Woody questioned, confused.

"See for yourself." Woody shot Nigel a nervous glance before they walked to the rear open doors of the ambulance. There sat a woman with dark brown hair, getting her right arm bandaged.

Nigel let out a gasp. "Jordan?"

"Oh, I thought you said your name was Nick." She said sweetly to the paramedic. He shook his head quickly. He knew the story, and he had knew her. Everyone did and had.

"Umm," he said uncomfortably, "maybe you should just listen to these two."

"_You_ are Jordan." Nigel said, pointing at her.

"Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh, from the Boston Medical Examiner's office." Woody added, in the same tone he always used when introducing her.

"I think you're mistaken. I'm not Jordan. Jordan is a guy's name, and my name is Tina. And I'm defiantly not an ME. Are you mocking me because I've just been through a traumatic ordeal, or is this how you treat all of your victims loved ones in Boston?" Jordan snapped, clearly under stress.

"It's the truth. Whether you want to believe all of Boston or not, you are _our_ Jordan. Now, can you please tell us what happened?" Woody said forcefully.

"We were just walking along, and a man stepped out of the crowd, said 'die bitch', and shot. Mike pushed me out of the way. He got it right in the chest. When the man shot again, it went straight through my arm. Before I realized what had happened, Mike was dead and the man was gone." Jordan finished, starting to cry.

"I'm sorry for your lost, Ms. Tracy. Do you remember anything about he man, or what his gun looked like?" Woody questioned, trying to put out of his mind that he was talking to Jordan as if she were a stranger.

"The gun was a .22. The man was about 5'9", dark-skinned, judging by his hands. He had a bit of a Middle-Eastern accent. And he shot with his left hand." Jordan said, struggling to remember.

"Ok, thanks, but you'll have to come uptown later, to file a formal report." Woody continued.

"Can't I just get it over with now? I don't have anyone I know in Boston," Woody's heart ached at these words. "and I'm not really looking forward to calling Mike's family."

"That would be fine, but you'll have to wait until I'm finished the preliminary autopsy." Nigel said uncomfortably. Jordan gave a silent nod and Nigel went back to the body. After a while, she turned to Woody, who had been watching her uneasily.

"Detective Hoyt, right?"

"Call me Woody." He answered automatically.

"Alright Woody. Why do you think I'm this 'Jordan' one?"

Woody shifted weight, thinking of a way to put it. "Well… we used to work together a lot on cases. Jordan and I. But one time, she got in to deep. Got some kidnappers upset, and they took her from us."

"That's terrible. Hey, didn't I see you shouting earlier today?"

"That was me." He confirmed. "Now, if you just tell me you remember everything that ever happened before two ago, I can go back to praying that someday Jordan'll come back."

"I'm sorry. I suffered Amnesia nearly two years ago. It took me quite a while to recover."

"What happened?"

"Oh, I just got into a car accident. Blunt force trauma to the skull. They thought I wouldn't make it, but I did."

"So they took you all the way to L.A. when they got you, didn't they?" Woody said, almost to himself. "Does anyone actually _remember_ your accident?" Jordan blushed when she shook her head 'no'. "I didn't think so." He said sadly.

"Woody, are we ready to take the lady uptown?" Nigel said after he loaded the body into the van.

"Sure. Nige, when was the morgue last remodeled?" Woody asked.

"I'd say about seven years ago. Are you up to something Woodrow?" Woody grabbed Nigel by the elbow and pulled him out of Jordan's earshot.

"I have a plan."

* * *

A/N: Yey! It's done. I would have kept it dark and mysterious, but then it would have been hard to have Bug and Nigel playing 'Rock, paper, scissors'.

Read and review, it makes me type faster!


	3. Woody's Plan

A/N: If reviews were what I wanted, reviews were what I got. You guys are amazing. I can't believe that no one every has anything negative to say. It make me so happy. So, for you guys, is chapter 3.

* * *

Woody's Plan

The three of them squished into the front seat of the van. Jordan kept up a steady stream of tears all the way there. And as long as Jordan was crying, Woody was there, with a shoulder and Kleenex. The first phase of his plan was to get Jordan comfortable with everyone again. And that meant taking her to the morgue.

The three of them walked into the morgue one after the other, Nigel pushing the body. Lily was first to notice.

"Jordan!" she screamed really high pitched. "Sorry, gotta go!" she said into the phone she was holding, slamming it down. She rushed forward to give Jordan a hug.

"Excuse me, do I know you?" Jordan said, confused. The tense moment was broken by Bug's chair crashing into the hall wall across from his office door. He had scooted it backwards quickly, banging it into the wall.

"Oh, that bad?" Lily said sadly, looking at Woody. He nodded sadly. Lily sighed and went back to her office. Woody steered Jordan into the conference room.

"Need anything?" he asked.

"Just to know what's going on here." Jordan said quietly.

"I know it's tough, but you're tough too, Jo. We can help you make it through." Woody said sympathetically. "I'm going to go get the grief counselor. It's standard." She nodded as he went to hunt down Lily, maybe she knew how to handle a case like this, 'cause he sure didn't.

"Guys, I don't think I can do this." Lily complained in Trace with Nigel and Bug.

"Lils, we have faith in you. You can and you will. You're the best person for the job." Bug said, starting to snap pictures.

"It's our Jordan, and she doesn't even know it."

"Yes, but her boyfriend just died, and she knows that." Woody said, startling them. Lily sullenly followed him into the conference room.

"Lily Lebowski, resident grief counselor. Tina Tracy, deceased's girlfriend." Woody introduced the two.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Popular words in Lily's line of work.

Jordan nodded. "You know me, don't you?"

"That…" Lily's voice cracked. "That doesn't matter right now."

Jordan looked out the window. Tears were visible in her eyes.

"So, you were dating Michael Demers?" Jordan nodded. "For how long?"

"About a year and a half."

"And you lived in L.A.?" Again Jordan nodded. "Do you have any family there?" Lily continued asking, even though she knew most of the answers.

"No, I don't. I haven't had any contact with any of my family in almost three years."

"It says here that you suffered amnesia. Is that true?"

"Ya, two years ago. Before you ask, I don't remember anything before that."

"Alright. Do you mind telling me what happened today?" Lily questioned in her soft voice.

"Mike and I were in Boston on vacation. It was my idea to come. This morning, we were walking along, and this detective here, mistook me for someone else. A missing friend of his. Who everyone seems to think I am." Jordan's voice was emotionless. She continued. "Later in the day, we had just decided on a spot for lunch. A man, about 5'9" and wearing a mask, stepped in front of us. He said something, directed to me. 'Die bitch'. And he shot. Mike pushed me out of the way, but was hit square in the chest. Before the shooter ran away, he took another shot at me. It went straight threw my arm. Not long after, some cops and medics showed up, and then the detective and his also delusional ME arrived at the scene."

"Do you know why anyone would want to hurt you?" Lily calmly said.

"No." Jordan said firmly. "Unless… no. I am who I think I am. No hidden past." She said to herself.

"Is there anything else you want to get off of your chest, before I contact Michael's parents?"

"Can you find out why everyone thinks I'm Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh?"

"You look like her, and you act like her." Lily could feel tears fighting in her own eyes. But she was not allowed to cry in her line of work. She had a job to do. "Are you going to hang around the morgue for a bit longer, or are you going to head back to your hotel?"

"Actually, I'd like to stay here. I'll be informed quicker here. And it's really calming here." Lily told her where to find her if she needed her, and where to get a drink if she wanted one. Lily went to her office and called up Demers' parents. It was a routine 'I'm sorry to inform you that your son has been killed' phone call. Nothing out of the ordinary. When she was done, she saw Nigel doing the autopsy and Bug checking tox screens.

"Hey Bug." She said as she flopped down into a chair. "That was hard. She wants to know why everyone thinks she's her."

"We could convince her if we did fingerprints or DNA." Bug suggested with a shrug.

"But it's Jordan. It would take more than that to convince Jordan, wouldn't it?"

"Well, it would be a start. Nothing at all unusual in Mr. Demers. Why was someone after Jordan?" he asked, changing the subject multiple times in one breath.

"You want me to go get prints." Lily guessed.

"Ya, and bring her by for a visit." Lily went back to the conference room. Jordan had gotten herself a soda and was staring out the window onto Boston.

"Ms. Tracy?" Lily asked softly. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind us running a fingerprint analyses on you."

"That would be fine." Jordan said as she turned around.

"Follow me please." Lily led her to Bug.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Mahesh_Vijayaraghavensatyanaryanamurthy." He greeted, shaking her hand._

_"Tina Tracy." She said, unsure of what she'd gotten herself into._

_Bug took her prints and ran them through the system. Of course, it was 'Jordan Cavanaugh' that came up._

_"That's you." He said, pointing to the screen._

_"I think there was a mistake. How many points of commonality did you check for?" Jordan asked forcefully._

"Eighteen, as always. That is most defiantly you." Bug replied in the same voice.

"I believe you are mistaken, Dr. Vijayaraghavensatyanaryanamurthy." She said getting louder with each word, and articulating every syllable in Bug's last name.

"My computer does not lie. And, if you didn't know any of us, how could you possibly have just pronounced my last name perfectly? " he rose his voice to the same level as hers.

"I worked at a call centre."

"How did you know about points of commonality in a fingerprint?"

"I can't explain that." Jordan said, her voice suddenly dropping to just above a whisper. As she hastily wiped away a tear that was falling down her cheek. "If you don't need me for anything else, I'm going back to my hotel." She grabbed a paper and pen out of her bag, clumsily trying to tear off a piece of her notepad with her un-slung arm. When she did, she wrote down the name and address of her hotel and gave it to Bug before making a grand exit.

Nigel walked into the room, looking between Lily and Bug and the storming-away Jordan. He let out a long, slow whistle.

"I'm assuming that was a fiasco."

* * *

A/N: Read and Review!

Love - Callieach


	4. Coming Back

A/N: Thank you to all of my reviewers, but especially Shawnee89 for the inspiration. Hugs to all!

A/N/2: Sorry this took so long, I had writers-block, and then my PC had to get upgraded, so it went away for a few days... but here it is!

* * *

Coming Back

Jordan walked back to the hotel, head hung, and fighting back tears. She hardly paid any attention to where she was going. Even though she had never been to Boston, her feet instinctively knew where to take her, so she needn't worry about getting lost. Before she knew it she was at her hotel room door, digging through her bag for the electronic key. She fumbled with it for a moment, and when she finally got in, she threw her bag on a chair and flopped down on the bed. Everything hit her at once. Michael was dead, she had gotten shot, people thought she was someone else, and she wasn't sure who she was anymore. She sobbed into her pillows for a long while. After she had calmed down slightly, she got up to find some painkillers that had been prescribed for her arm. She poured a glass of water from the bathroom sink and took three tablets, leaning against the windowsill, looking down onto the streets of Boston.

A thousand thoughts ran through Jordan's mind. If she had never been here before, why did Boston make her feel so at home? Why had she felt so at ease at the morgue, a place of death and sorrow? Why had Detective Hoyt seemed so warm towards her? Why did all these people think she was someone from their past? Did she even really know who she was?

This was all a mystery to her, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. Seized by an adventurous impulse that was always characteristic of Jordan, she found the number to the local rent-a-car place. After booking the rental of a black SUV, she took a cab to the parking lot where the vehicle was stored. She didn't know why, but she had an image stuck in her head. It was an apartment building, and for some reason she knew it was in Boston. She drove around until she found the building she had stuck in her subconscious. Parking out front, she strode in through the front doors, and took the elevator to the fourth floor. When she found apartment 445, she stopped. Taking the notepad again out of her bag, she wrote a hasty note and slid it in the crack between the door and it's frame. She walked out, unsure of what she should do next. Unsure of what she had just done.

* * *

Woody was upset. They hadn't made much headway at the morgue since Jordan and stormed out. Lily was so unusually upset that Garret had sent her home before 4:30. Woody and Nigel were standing in the conference room in silence when Bug came in.

"Mr. Demers was defiantly killed by a .22. Our witness was right." He informed them, trying to keep his voice neutral, a difficult task for all of them that day.

"So Jordan didn't lose any of her medical-examiner-crime-fighting brilliance." Woody said sullenly.

"I guess not." Nigel said, "I was thinking the shooter was likely somebody Jordan got upset."

"That really narrows it down, Nige. Do you know how people she's pissed off over the years?" Woody asked.

"No – really? Jordan piss someone off?" Bug said sarcastically. After a laugh his tone became more serious. "I guess we should start going through her cases. Any Arabs she got convicted that were just released." Woody nodded in agreement and followed Nigel and Bug to their still-shared office. He hovered around them impatiently while they searched through Jordan's old cases.

"Eureka!" Nigel exclaimed suddenly. "Haquim El Fabir. Released two weeks ago from an 'Accomplice to Murder' charge. Jordan had that case, I remember it. She spent weeks gloating about it. Nobody thought she would ever be able to get a lead, but she did." He finished proudly.

"Ya, Jor surprised us a lot over the years, didn't she?" Woody said wistfully. He sighed, "Who wants to help me get this bastard?" Nigel went with Woody to the El Fabir residence. Woody knocked on the door while Nigel stood back nervously.

"Boston PD, open up!" he commanded. The door creaked open.

"What do you want?" a thick Arabian voice asked.

"We want to talk to you." The door opened a bit wider.

"Who's 'we'?" the man asked suspiciously.

"Detective Woody Hoyt, Homicide, and Dr. Nigel Townsend, Boston Medical Examiner's office." Woody said formally. The door opened to reveal the man standing there.

"What would you like to talk about?" he said, obviously trying to fight back nervousness, not succeeding too well. Both Woody and Nigel could see right through him.

"Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh, formerly of the Boston ME's office." Nigel said sternly.

"Oh, that bitch. She put me behind bars, and I didn't do anything." Haquim said bitterly.

"So when you got out, you wanted to get her, didn't you?" Woody was using common police interrogating skills. And they were working.

"Yes. I mean no. Of course not. Why would I do something that stupid, prison was hard enough innocent, let alone guilty." He blundered.

"Do you own a .22 millimeter gun, by any chance?" asked Nigel.

"No, I don't. Why would anybody let me have a gun straight out of jail?" Man, this guy sure thought he was good at lying.

"And where were you earlier this morning?" Woody continued interogating.

"I was walking home from my new night job at the lumber mill. I got off late today and didn't start headig home till at least 8:00 am, much later than usual." It was obvious that the suspect was getting nervous. It didn't take a detective to figure out that that didn't give him a proper aliby.

For Woody, that was enough to arrest him by. They took him to county lock-up and started formally interogating him. But he wouldn't talk anymore without his lawer, and his lawer refused to come in until the next morning.

"Woody, you might as well go home. There's nothing more you can do tonight. We'll hold him and you can work this out in the morning." DA Renee Walcott told him, just getting off her cell phone.

As a change, Woody listened. He made a quick stop back at the morgue to make sure he wasn't needed there, and returned to his car. He drove home to find a surprise for him. A note, in familiar writing. Writing he was used to spelling out causes of death and suspects, not this plea.

'Please, Detective Hoyt, I need to know what's going on here. I know you can help me.'

And with it there was a phone number. Woody recongnized it as being a Californian cell phone number.

* * *

A/N: You know the drill, read and review. It's not that complicated. 


	5. Anytime

A/N: Oh my gosh, it's been such a long time since I updated this. Sorry about that, but I had writers block. And thanks to my new pal, Radhi, for inspiring me to get my butt in gear.

* * *

Anytime

Woody dialed the number. It was picked up on the first ring.

"Hello?"

"Jordan? I mean Tina?" Woody asked into the phone. He thought he might have been hearing things. He still wasn't used to having Jordan around, even if she wasn't _really_ Jordan.

"Ya. Detective Hoyt?" She sounded scared and confused.

"Call me Woody." He said automatically. "What's the matter?"

"This is a weird favor, but could you meet me somewhere?"

"Anywhere." Woody answered truthfully. He would go anywhere for Jordan.

"Well, I'm not sure it actually exists. Have you ever heard of a place called Summit View?"

Woody couldn't figure out why she would want to meet at that old place, but he decided to play along. "Ya, I've heard of it. We – I worked a case there a few years back." He had to be careful not to imply that she was someone she didn't think she was.

Jordan listed off the address of the hospital. "It's there, isn't it?'

"Ya, but – "

"Can you meet me there in ten minutes?"

"Ya, I guess, but Jor-"

"Thanks, Woods." Woody continued to try and argue that it was doubtable that they would let them in at this time off night, but the line was dead.

"She hung up on me." Woody said to his empty apartment. _Some things never change. Beg me to do something, then hang up with a 'Thanks, Woods'._ It was too common a scene, at least this time, it didn't seem like he'd have to risk his job, but the night wasn't over yet.

It wasn't until he was in his car and almost there that he realized that she had know the name and address of the place. He hadn't thought about it since the last time he had been there. How could she, who remembered almost nothing else, remember a mental hospital?

When he pulled up, there was already a dark SUV waiting there. When he got out, she got out.

"What did they do with the tree?" Jordan asked immediately.

"What tree?" Woody asked, confused.

"Don't play dumb. There was a tree right there, in the middle of those flowers." She pointed to a round spot where flowers were growing.

"I don't remember there ever being a tree there. Maybe a stump, a long time ago. But never a tree."

"But _I_ remember that tree. I remember a picture of me. Beneath that tree. So that tree existed. Tell me where it went." Jordan said forcefully.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Maybe it was another tree, at another nut-house." Woody was getting frustrated with her now.

"Who's Emily Cavanaugh?"

"Your mother. Why?" Woody instantly knew he'd made a mistake. Jordan put her hand over her mouth in shock and leaned against the side door of her SUV.

"She was here. That's why I connect that tree with a file for here with her name. That's why there was a picture of me, here. I must have been visiting her." Here, Jordan started crying. Instinctively, Woody put his arms around her and pulled her close, careful not to hurt her bandaged arm. She didn't pull away, like he'd expected, instead she collapsed in his arms, sobbing. At the same time Woody was trying to comfort her, a woman who didn't know who she was, or their history together, he was still overjoyed to have her back in his arms.

"I'm sorry." Jordan said after she'd calmed down and pulled away from Woody, much to his dismay.

"Don't ever apologize to me. You have nothing to be sorry about." Woody said softly.

"Thank you. For everything."

"Anytime, Jo. Now, is there anything else you need to talk about?"

"Are there any good bars around?" Even with her strange question, Woody had suspected it would come sooner or later.

"I have one in mind."

* * *

"We used to come here a lot, didn't we?" Jordan asked with a long swig of her beer. Her and Woody were at the nearly empty bar of the Irish pub the gang had started to come to after the Progue had been closed down and sold.

"Yes, we did." Woody said, taking a drink of his own beer.

There was a long silence before either of them talked again. "Woody, have I ever been to LA?" Jordan asked.

"Umm, Tina? I thought you said you lived there for the past three years. All happy while I was hear thinking you were dead, and really you were just living life in LA with some new guy." The words tumbled out of Woody's mouth before he could stop them.

"I meant did Jordan-me ever go to LA, you pig." Jordan muttered the last words under her breath.

"Ya, a couple of times. A few times when she was messed up and ran away, and a couple a more times when she thought _I_ needed saving." Woody said bitterly, unsure what was coming over him.

"I thought so. You never thought you needed my help." Jordan stated coolly.

"You're right. Because I didn't" Woody lied bluntly.

"Nice chatting to you, Detective Hoyt, but I think I've got to go now." She said venomously as she threw money on the bar for her drinks and threw on her coat. She was out the door before Woody could react. He threw down money for his own drinks and hastily put on his own coat.

"Jordan, wait!" He ran until he caught up with her, she was down the alleyway to the parking lot where they had each parked. Woody wouldn't realize it until later, but she was taking a shortcut he hadn't shown her to the parking lot from the bar.

"Do you think the last three years have been peachy for me?" Jordan said furiously. "Not knowing who I am, or why my heart broke every time a saw a Cadillac, or heard certain songs, or even thought about the state of Wisconsin!"

"Tina! I didn't mean it that way." Woody was getting his own emotions in check with every word she screamed.

"Ya know what, call me Jordan. I must have been her in a past life. Some stupid person stupid enough to become friends with an arrogant, self-righteous jerk like you!" Woody could tell that she was upset, and that made him more upset, knowing that he had caused it.

"We were more than friends, Jordan. I loved you. The worst part is, you haven't changed a bit. For nearly eight years, you were all I could think about, all I wanted. And all you could do was push me away. Except when you rented a Cadillac when you followed me to LA, and it broke down in the middle of the desert. That was the first time you kissed me. Except late at night afteryour dad's barhad closed, when I would play old songs on the jukebox and practically beg you to dance. You always would. Except when you encouraged me to go home to Wisconsin to go hunting with me brother, whom you so graciously flirted with when he came to visit. But you still looked after me, Jo." Woody ranted, his own anger level rising. He could see tears glistening in Jordan's eyes. She took a few steps towards him, and he prepared him self for a punch, or a hissed threat in his ear, something more Jordan-ish than she actually did.

Jordan planted a small kiss on Woody's cheek. "Thank you, Farmboy."

Woody looked down into her eyes, confused, especially with his added nickname in there. "For what?"

"For everything. You talked some sense into me, and made me realize who I really am. Can I see you again tomorrow?"

"Anytime, Jordan, anytime."

* * *

A/N: Aww, fiddlesticks. That wasn't supposed to go that way! Woody was supposed to meet Jordan at her hotel so she could fling a pillow at him. And he wasn't supposed to be so moody. Well, I hope you like it anyway, even if it didn't do what it was told to. And once again, very sorry for the wait for this chappie.

If you review, it will make me feel better about this not going the right way. Hint hint.

Love, Callieach


	6. Decisions

A/N: Hey everybody, please DO NOT kill me for not updating in like forever! I don't own anything you read here accept for the general idea and the Demers'. Enjoy!

* * *

Decisions

Jordan was lying on the stiff hotel bed when she heard a knock on the door.

"Just a minute!" She called, getting up and un-locking all the locks. She pulled open the door to find Mike's parents standing there.

"Oh, Tina!" His mother, Grace, said, pulling Jordan into a tight hug. She wrapped her arm around the elderly woman, knowing how upset she must be.

"Come in." Jordan offered, ushering Grace and Frank into the room. She pulled out the two chairs around the small table for them. "Can I get you something to drink?" She offered. When they both shook their heads no, Jordan sat on the edge of the bed.

"They didn't give us any details over the phone." Frank explained.

"And you haven't been to the morgue, yet?" Jordan asked.

"No, dear, we wanted you to be with us." Grace answered.

"Before we go, I have something I have to tell you." Jordan took a deep breath. "When I received Amnesia two years ago, it wasn't because of a car accident. I was kidnapped. My name was – is Jordan Cavanaugh. Ironically, I was a ME at the morgue here in Boston. I didn't know about this until Mike died, and everyone around knew me. I just figured I should warn you before we went."

Frank nodded in understanding. Grace looked numb, almost as if she couldn't take any more shocking news.

They drove in Jordan's Rent-A-Car to the morgue. They stepped off the elevator and Jordan went straight to Lily's office.

"Can you talk to Mike's parents?" Jordan asked, peeking around the doorframe.

Lily looked up, startled. "Oh, hi, Ms. Tracy. Umm, ya, of course." She stood up, straitened her skirt and walked to Jordan.

"Thanks. And, by the way, I've realized that I am Jordan. Call me by my name." Jordan said as she led Lily to where she had left Mr. & Mrs. Demers.

"Hi, I'm Lily Lebowski, resident grief counselor." Lily said as she shook each of their hands. "I'm so sorry for lost."

"What happened to Michael?" Frank asked, holding his wife's hand.

"Why don't you come sit down?" Lily suggested. The Demers nodded and Lily led them into the conference room. She sat them down and got them each a glass of water. "There's no easy way to say this, but your son was shot."

Grace burst out crying and Frank and Jordan each took one of her hands in their own.

"Who would want to hurt my baby?" She sobbed.

"That's the thing, Mrs. Demers, Michael wasn't the intended target. Jordan was." Lily explained softly. Grace and Frank both looked at Jordan in shock.

"I always thought you were trouble." He said to her viciously.

"Frank." Grace scolded. "She loved our son, and Mike loved her. He's too much of a gentleman to do nothing when somebody points a gun at someone he loves. It's not her fault."

"Who did it?" Frank asked Lily after he apologized to Jordan.

"We don't know for sure yet, but last time I spoke to the detective on the case, they had somebody in custody." Lily explained in her same soft tone.

"Can I see him?" Grace asked. Lily told her she would check and left the room.

"I'm sorry that it's my fault." Jordan apologized.

"It's alright dear, we don't blame you." Grace said as tears formed in Jordan's eyes.

"Dr. Vijay just finished the autopsy." Lily said from the doorway. She led the three into the crypt and pulled back the sheet on the nearest body.

"Oh, Michael…" Grace sobbed before her husband pulled her into his arms.

"Shhh, it's alright." He tried to comfort her, to no avail.

Jordan covered her mouth with her hand to try and silence her sobbing. "I'm sorry, Mike." She whispered before she ran out of the room and right into somebody.

"I'm sorry – oh, Ms. Tracy, is something wrong?" Garrett asked concernedly.

"Everything." Jordan sobbed. Garrett wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her into his office. He sat her down on his couch and sat beside her.

"I killed him." Jordan said, more to herself than him.

"No you didn't. Haquim El Fabir did." Garret said reasonably.

"But he was aiming for _me_, not Mike."

"But Mike pushed you out of the way. He died so that you wouldn't."

"I would have rather died." Jordan said softly.

"I'm sure there are a lot of people who would rather not see you dead, after all these years, Jordan." Garret said.

"But there are obviously people who would rather see me dead."

"There's someone like that for everybody, you just have a few more than others." Garret joked. Jordan gave a small smile.

"Uhh, Garret? How difficult would it be for someone to get a job here?" She asked, after she had stopped crying, taking him by surprise.

"Well, I'd recommend they had experience, maybe took a re-fresher course, but if they were good, it would be easy. Why?"

"I spent too long trying to figure out who I am to ignore it now that I know." Jordan said.

"That's entirely your choice, Ms. Tracy." Garret said.

"Get used to calling me Jordan again. I know that that's who I am."

"Well, Jordan, I'd love to have you back. We all would."

Jordan gave Garret a hug before she stood up to leave. "Thank you, Garret."

* * *

Woody didn't get any sleep that night. He was thinking about Jordan, and what had happened before she was kidnapped. As worried and upset he'd been about it, Lu, who he had been dating at the time, had hardly tried to act worried at all. She didn't have any competition to get Woody. Her coldness was the reason Woody didn't put up a fuss when she started dating someone new a few months ago. At the same time that he was glad Jordan was back, he was worried that she wasn't back entirely, and would never know how it was between them before.

Before he knew it, his alarm clock was going off. Sighing, he began to get ready for work. It wasn't the first sleepless night Jordan had caused him and it was bound to not be the last.

Woody headed to jail he'd had Haquim El Fabir locked up at. Renee Walcott came in shortly after him.

"I waited for you. Didn't figure you wanted to miss out on all the fun." Woody joked. Renee rolled her eyes and strode past him into the interrogation room.

El Fabir's lawyer stood up and shook Woody and Renee's hands. "Carl Hallert, Mr. El Fabir's attorney."

"Renee Walcott, DA, Detective Woody Hoyt, Boston PD." Renee introduced before she sat down.

"Let's just do a little revision. Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh was instrumental in getting you put behind bars, correct?" Woody asked.

"I suppose so."

"So when you got out, a hell of a lot earlier than you were supposed to, you realized that because of her, ten years of your life were behind bars."

Haquim nodded, but didn't say anything.

"So you wanted revenge." Woody suggested.

"Of course I did, but that doesn't mean I was going to get it."

"So you're denying that you tried to kill Dr. Cavanaugh?" Renee asked.

"I didn't have anything to do with her or her boyfriend, okay?" Haquim said defensively.

"But you must have. How else could you have known about her boyfriend?" Woody asked slyly.

"You must have mentioned him." Haquim responded, trying to sound non-chalant.

"No, you must have killed him!" Woody accused, glaring at the suspect.

Haquim's eyes narrowed. "Prove it."

"Oh, don't worry. I will." Woody hissed.

"I think that we're finished here for now." Renee said, standing up. "Common, Woody." They were almost out the door when Woody turned around.

"We'll be back."

* * *

A/N: So, what did you think? I liked it, for a change, it turned out how I wanted it to. Please review and sorry again for the wait!

Love, Callieach


End file.
